


Throw caution to the wind

by Supertights



Category: Avengers: The Initiative, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Divas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cancer, Cheesy, Crack, F/M, Fantasizing, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Not Beta Read, One True Pairing, POV Third Person, Requited Love, Wordcount: Over 1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-02
Updated: 2010-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-24 06:30:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supertights/pseuds/Supertights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end, she fights for love as much as she fights for her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Throw caution to the wind

**Author's Note:**

> Complete fluff and absolute cheese, but I like happy endings and Marvel isn't in the habit of providing them. For the life of me, I don't remember the relevance of whoop whoop, must be from a tv show or movie. *shrugs*

The hospital room was dark when she opened her eyes, the windows shaded against the city at night, and everything closed in around her again. The cancer, the treatments, the nausea. She hated it, feeling weak and vulnerable, reliant on people. The anger had surprised her, anger at the cancer was to be expected but weird feelings of rage - at the doctors for not being able to cure her and for wanting her breast. The righteous fury she felt towards Hank Pym for telling her she was safe, maybe he'd already been a Skrull then. Anger at her Dad for working near Nuclear facilities all her life, at the New Warriors for being dead or in space or missing when she really needed them. Even at Vance, for lost opportunities.

Her train of thought was broken by the sudden realisation that someone was sitting next to the bed, holding her hand. She tried to blink away the last of the sleepiness from her vision.

"Patsy?" But the hand felt wrong for Patsy, larger and the skin not as smooth or soft as a woman's.

"She had to step out for a minute. Do you want me to call her back?"

That voice - she felt the breath go right out of her lungs. The last time she'd seen him, she'd tried to make him jealous, flirting a little with Rich. Both men completely oblivious. "Vance--who told you?" She didn't know what else to say but then he didn't answer so perhaps he didn't either. A flicker of anger made her want to pull her hand away and reject him.

"Someone who'd rather remain anonymous. Thinks you'll be angry. I'd have been here sooner if I'd _known_  sooner."

It could've been any one of her friends, most likely Patsy though with her contacts in the Initiative. She felt the anger cool and disappear. "It's not important. I don't want to be angry at anyone anymore."

He made a familiar agreeing noise and the chair creaked as he moved in it.

"I've missed you, Vance." Where the hell had that come from?

No response, then, "I've missed you too, Angel. We used to be such good friends. I wish we'd stayed friends."

Friends. Screw that. Dying women could take chances and throw caution to the wind. "I don't just miss you, Vance, I miss us. I miss us being together." She lay back against the pillows and closed her eyes to better listen to his voice. "Do you think we would've been good together? As a married couple, I mean. Do you think Paris would've been nice?"

Vance sighed. "I think we would've been amazing, and Paris--" He hesitated for a second, "Has been there a long time and is going to be there a while longer."

"I've got no hair," she lamented, drifting sideways into a new topic, reaching up to pat her shaved scalp, she shied away from touching it at the last second.

"I noticed." His free hand stroked across the stubble gently. "If we'd been married, I'd shave my head for you so we were a matching pair."

It sounded like he'd lost some of that knee-jerk pain and bitterness he'd carried after the end of the engagement. When Nita and Rich had warned her away from talking to him. "I'd forgotten how charming you could be."

"I make the effort for very special people."

Good. He still considered her special people. "If we'd been married, would you have still loved me with no hair?"

"I would." He chuckled. "We're playing the _If we'd been married_  game?"

She nodded. "You started it. And only one breast? No hair and only one breast, would you still love me?" Now she knew she was on one too many drug cocktails, she'd never wanted the surgery.

"Of course I'd still love you!"

Very firm, quick response. She liked that. But just in case-- "You'd still find me attractive?"

"Your hair and breasts are not the be all, end all, spectacular though they are. You have many other attractive qualities that a man like me finds appealing."

She could hear the smile in his voice. "You say the sweetest things," she said with a grin. "What if I had no hair, one breast and-- I don't know, one eye?"

"Your other eye would continue to dazzle me and I hear they even make the sexiest eye patches these days, you could be a very sexy pirate."

"Dazzling, sexy, I like that." She wished for more light so she could see his face. "You could be my cabin boy." She got lost in a fantasy for a moment, involving pirate queens and their very naked sun golden cabin boys. She swallowed it away with some reluctance, storing the mental images for starker times. "What if-- What if I had no hair, one breast, one eye and braces?"

"Braces? There's nothing wrong with your teeth."

"Just asking the question."

"Your game I suppose. You'd be beautiful in braces, I'd want to kiss you all the time."

Sighing, she murmured, "And you'd desire me, still want to do whoop whoop?" She grinned at what his expression must be, opening her eyes to flick a glance in his direction but he was still in shadow.

"Whoop whoop?" He laughed softly, she loved the sound of his laugh but towards the sharp end of their relationship, he didn't laugh at anything. "I've never stopped loving you, Angel. I dream about you all the time, some very _x-rated_  whoop whoop dreams." He raised her hand to his lips, kissing the back of it softly like gentlemen did in period dramas.

'Oh Mr Darcy, eat your heart out,' she thought as hers fluttered like a bird caught in her chest. "Don't let whatsername catch you saying that," she breathed.

"Whatsername and I are not on speaking terms right now." There was a strange tone to his voice, sounded like disappointment and a little betrayal. She'd heard it directed her way one regrettable time.

"You can tell her from me, she can't have you back."

A phone flipped open and the light from the tiny screen lit his wonderful face.

"Don't let Brunhilda the nurse catch you with that. Who're you calling?" she asked.

"Whatsername." She could see the mischievous smile playing at his lips.

A giggle escaped. How long had it been since she'd found anything to giggle at? "Liar. Who?"

"No one. Patsy said she'd warn me if trouble was on the way. I'm still a wanted man, you know, I can autograph a poster if you'd like." The phone closed and he was lost again to the shadows. "It's just that, well, I might have to leave in a hurry."

She didn't want him to go. "Vance-- I'm scared, _really_  scared. Will a wanted man hold a dying woman in his arms and comfort her until she falls asleep?" She bit her lip, gnawing at the flesh a little, her fingers crossed.

He took off his jacket and climbed carefully onto the bed behind her, spooning in close as she turned on her side, trying not to jostle her. "That okay?"

"Closer."

His lips were brushing against the back of her neck, his breath tickling the skin when he asked, "This close?" His hand sought hers again and their fingers laced together.

"Now stay there until the end of time," she whispered. "And tell me an x-rated bedtime story about a bald, one-eyed, one-breasted pirate queen and her sexy cabin boy to send me off to sweet dreams."

"Don't forget the braces."


End file.
